


I love you, Michael Jones. (4+1)

by clokkerfoot



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: 4+1 fic, Almost blowjob, Dirty Talk, Drunkenness, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gay Chicken, Groping, Humour, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Michael, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clokkerfoot/pseuds/clokkerfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin tells Michael he loves him. A lot; almost every day. But he's always joking around, playing games, he's never meant it. And Michael never says it back, because he's scared that he'll actually mean it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I love you, Michael Jones. (4+1)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the idea for this a week before I actually wrote it. I started it on a train, then abandoned it. Then started it again when I shared a room with a snoring person and couldn't sleep. This was the somewhat gay result.

1\. "I love you, my little Mi-cool."

"Shut up, moron."

This is the third time Gavin's told Michael he loves him this fucking week, and he still breaks out in a panicked sweat whenever those words slip out from between Gav's lips, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. 

No one's ever said "I love you" to Michael before. Not even his parents, not a single friend or family member. Pricks, the lot of them.

That must be why he gets so jumpy about it. 

Obviously.

Ray doesn't really help with the whole situation, laughing as Michael's jaw clenches and his cheeks flush hot. Gavin would never notice it, but Ray does. Every fucking time. Ray glances over the second the word "love" leaves Gav's mouth, pinning the side of Michael's face in a staring match that he refuses to participate in.

"Aw, does little Vav love little Mi-cool?" Ray says, in a poor mock of Gavin's horrific accent, earning a snigger from Geoff.

"Not as much I love you, X-Ray!" Gavin replies with a grin, throwing a chocolate peanut at Ray, who catches it in his mouth and glares at Michael with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

The words... sting, a little bit. Michael hasn't ever heard the words said to him before he met the British prick, and he hasn't heard the words spoken from Gavin to any other person before. No, just all all the Red Bulls he had earlier. That's what the sting is. 

And if his fists curl in his lap, if he looks down at those fists, and if his teeth pull on his lower lip, Ray doesn't comment. He just looks away, back to the video he's editing.

Prick. 

====

2\. "Aw, I love ya Michael."

Gavin is pissed. Absolutely smashed. At work, too.

Geoff is absolutely livid, but Jack has taken him for a coffee and a calm down (Michael reckons they've gone for a quickie behind the office. What? Everyone knows they have a thing.)

Gavin is sat in Gus's office (thank god he's away on "business") surrounded by about ten empty cans of beer, happily chugging on his eleventh. They'd all thought he was doing some editing or some filming, but they had no idea he was merrily getting pissed.

He offers a beer to Michael, who grins and knocks the can out of his hand. "You're a fucking moron, you know that?"

Then the idiot hiccups and takes another swig of beer. He gazes slightly to the left of Michael, eyes squinted. "M-Michael, I didn't know you were a-" he burps loudly, grinning widely at himself, "-twin."

"Moron." Michael repeats.

"But I'm your moron."

Michael hoists the drunken Brit into an upright position and slings his arm around his shoulders. He pretends the words don't make his stomach do weird things he hasn't felt since he was fifteen, and escorts Gavin out of the office slowly. 

He reaches Gav's car (Geoff's car, really, but who's gonna check?) and leans Gavin against the door. He hiccups and sways on the spot. Michael slips his hand into his friend's pocket and feels around for the keys to the car, ignoring Gavin's high pitched squealing and the hand fumbling clumsily at his fly. What a fucking horny twit. 

Gavin's ass barely hits the seat, and he's dead to the world. Shaking his head, the American clambers into the drivers seat and starts the car up. He gets halfway home with Gavin, and he vomits all over the dash. Hey, it's not his car, so he ain't gonna complain. 

He ends up tucking Gavin into his own bed, the drunken boy laughing and saying "I'm in Michael's bed.. Why am I in here.. did we-" he giggles like a damn teenager, "-did we do the thing?"

"The thing?" Michael asks, eyebrow cocked. Better to humour the bastard than to mock him carelessly and regret it when he's sober. 

Gavin looks like he's fighting with himself for a few seconds, then a flush spreads across his cheeks and he mumbles, "Sex!" like it's the biggest thing in the world.

"No, Gav, we did not have sex."

"Sure?" Gavin hiccups.

"Positive."

"Aw."

"Sorry." why is he apologising? Shut up Michael, shut up shut up shut up. 

"No need to apologise, Mi-cool. I don't need to fuck you to-" he burps, "love you. I love you Mikey Wikey."

"Good for you, Sister Christian." Michael replies coldy, damn near running out into the living room, slamming the door behind him. His heart is pounding as he sits down on his couch and closes his eyes. 

And if he didn't go back into work that day, Geoff never said a word about it.

====

3\. Gay chicken.

Who's fucking idea was it to play gay chicken?

More importantly, why the fuck is he playing gay chicken with Gavin? With Geoff and Jack playing their own game in the background, Ray and Ryan looking at him and Gav with... hopeful expressions on their faces?

Why aren't they filming? Why isn't he screaming at some shitty indie game?

Why is Gavin's hand on his cheek?

"Just remember that I love you, my little Mi-cool." Gavin mutters, before bringing their lips together with a grin on his face.

"Gay!" Ray and Ryan yell in unison.

"Duh." Michael says into the firm kiss Gavin is planting on him, before sliding a hand down to hook the waistband of Gavin's pants. He ain't gonna lose this game.

Gav does the same.

Then their tongues meet and suddenly it's a real battle for victory. Hot air is exchanged between their mouths, breaths caught in throats, and Gavin is fucking mewling, the little slut. He tugs at his lip and the Brit groans.

Michael lets his hand slide in the gap between Gav's boxers and pants, chuckling into their breathy kiss at his half hard dick.

"Slut." he murmurs.

"Tease."

Gav's hand snakes into Michael's boxers, sliding around his hip to squeeze at his ass cheek. Michael chuckles and squeezes Gavin's (surprisingly large) junk, letting out a loud laugh as his hips jolt forward to meet with Michael's hand. Ray laughs. 

"Slut." he repeats, enjoying this game far too much. 

"Tease." he hears back again. He starts to rub Gavin slowly through his boxers, feeling his dick harden. 

"You're a dirty little whore, Gavin Free. You're begging for it." Michael mumbles, a smile claiming his lips as Gavin full on moans and squeezes his ass even harder. "Dirty little whore. Bet you wanna get on your knees and suck my fucking dick like the bitch you are." he's gonna win this game, not a single doubt in his mind. He ignores the fact that he may be getting a little hard in his pants as Gavin cowers under his words.

Ryan chokes in the background. 

Suddenly Gavin has dropped to his knees, Michael's hand flying out from his pants, and then he's pulling Michael's pants down and oh god what is that moron doing now and then Gav's mouth is inches away from his crotch and his mind is a mantra of ohgodwhatisgoingonwhatishedoing.

It's not worth it.

Michael grunts and shoves Gavin away from him, tucking himself back into his pants and darting out of the office.

He doesn't care that he lost, doesn't care that Ray is yelling "Chicken! Chicken!" after him.

He can't let Gavin do that. Not for the sake of winning a game.

====

4\. Michael is very drunk.

He's seeing doubles of everything and he isn't quite sure where he is. He remembers a party, dares, body shots.

Fucking body shots, man.

Body shots. 

Mm.

"Michael, there you are!"

Michael is picking up an empty vodka bottle one second, then the next he's being spun around in a circle and there's vomit coming out of his mouth and he doesn't really understand why.

"You alright?"

He wipes his mouth and shit, bile tastes gross. He looks up and oh, there's a face he recognises. Stupid British fuck.. always making him blow chunks everywhere. Piece of crap with his hair and stupid face.

"No I am not!" Michael says defensively, and why does he feel like Gav's done something wrong? "You made me throw-" he's mid sentence when he's leaning over and vomiting again, god knows why, "-up." he finishes triumphantly.

"No, you drinking a half bottle of vodka made you throw up."

"I did not!"

"Yeah, you did. Mostly in body shots-"

"BODY SHOTS! Oh man, they're fucking great, we should do body shots more often. Every time you die in a game you've gotta take a body shot. Let's do that! You tell Burnie and I'll tell G- what's his name? The G guy. Gerald? Geoff! I'll tell Geoff because I live with him and he- no, that's you?" Michael hears the words practically falling out of his mouth but he doesn't understand half of them.

"Michael."

"OR-"

"Michael."

"What?!"

"I'm gonna take you home."

"Whyyy?"

"You're drunk."

Michael stares incredulously at Gavin, "No shit, Watson. Sherlock. Whatever."

"C'mon."

"Why should I come with you?"

Gavin sighs, "Because you're my boy, I love you, and I want to see you home safe."

"You're my boy-" he pauses as the room sways slightly, "my boy first, Gav, and I-"

Then Michael feels like the floor shouldn't be moving towards him that fast, and next thing he knows he's lying in a soft bed that smells like alcohol and Gavin, with a hangover that is pressing on his brain like a goddamn tumour. 

Gavin is sat in a chair in the corner of the room, knees pulled up to his chest like he's a child, a thin blanket tucked over himself. He's snoring slightly, face at peace.

The sight makes Michael's already uneasy stomach perform flips and twists, and he just thinks god, he's so adorable like this.

Nah. That's just sappy.

It's comfortable as shit in the bed, so he doesn't move until the sun sets in the sky again.

He doesn't remember what happened the night before, but a single word rings out clear through the hazy memory of music, vodka and vomiting.

'Love'

====

+1. "Hey, Michael!" Gavin says cheerily, slapping an enthusiastic hand on his shoulder, before slinging the same arm around his shoulders with a smile. He's too fucking happy for a Monday morning.

"What the fuck do you want?" Michael asks flatly, wishing to high heavens that he had a can of Red Bull in his hand right now. 

"Just saying hi." a forlorn expression crosses over the Brit's face, and he unhooks his arm from around Michael.

"Well, go say hi to everyone else. I'm fucking tired."

"Okay."

His friend starts to walk out of the kitchen towards the Achievement Hunter office, shoulders slumped and a sigh falling from his lips. A memory jolts in his mind, and Michael suddenly feels like he's just drank a million Red Bulls.

"Hey, Gavin!"

The Brit spins around with a joyous expression on his face. Shit, he looks like a puppy. "Yeah, Michael?!"

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, shoot."

"Sit down."

He does.

Obedient little fuck.

"I just... I've been... fuck, how do I start this-" Michael begins, running a hand through his hair and frowning. "You've been saying. Stuff. And I just wanted to know... if it's true."

"Is this about the whole circumcision thing? Cause Jack was totally lying about that."

Michael splutters, "What?!"

"About me... being... yeah. That's not what you mean, I guess?"

He shakes his head. "Nowhere close." just what he wanted to hear on a Monday morning.

"Oh. What is it then, Mi-cool?"

"You said-" the words catch in his throat, and he can't say them. He holds his fingers up and makes air quotes, "'I love you'. To me. A lot, recently. I just- I don't know why."

"Why what?"

"Why you'd say that."

"Because its true, my little Michael."

His head snaps up from where he's studying his shoes so fast he hears the click in his neck, "What?"

"It's true. I love you, Michael."

It's there. No joking. No nicknames. Dead weight seriousness. And he fucking means it, says it with a confidence in his voice he hasn't heard before. His face has a soft, sad smile on it. It's adorable.

Gavin. Adorable. Since when?

"You- love me."

"Not like Jack and Geoff and Ray love you, either. I love you, Michael Jones. I want to be with you."

It hits him like a cannonball in the chest. He loves him. He seriously, fucking Love Actually loves him. Like a- like a boyfriend. Like, that kind of love. That. Love. He can feel his breathing going ten miles a minute, his heart beating like a drum.

"Michael? You okay?"

"I'm more than okay."

"Michael?"

"I love you too, Gavin." oh, and he means it. Means it a million times over as he surges forwards and presses his lips to Gavin's, feeling the rough stubble graze his chin. Fingers come up to twist in his hair, a hand pulling at the back of his neck, a tongue sliding alongside his own, breaths mingling.

And he'd wanted this all along.

He just hadn't noticed the signs.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." he murmurs into their deepening kiss, whenever they pause for breath, determined to make up for lost time. 

Then again, they've got all the time in the world.

====

-1. Ray hears his name spoken from inside the kitchen, and it sounds suspiciously like Gavin, so he presses his ear to the door for a better listen. 

"-love you, Michael Jones. I want to be with you."

His jaw actually drops open. Did Gavin just- no way, no fucking way did he just confess his love for Michael in the goddamn kitchen.

"Michael?"

"I love you too, Gavin."

Ray has to hold in a choked breath. This is like reading fanfiction, hearing the totally gay confessions of love being spoken. Sounds kinda familiar actually, but he's not sure where he's read it.

Oh, ew, he can hear sloppy kissing noises. Oh, man, he didn't want to hear that on a Monday morning. For fuck's sake.

He backs quietly away from the kitchen door and heads over to the AH office, a bet made two years ago floating to the front of his mind.

Bursting through the office door, he exclaims with a wide grin on his face, "You all owe me fifty bucks!"

Faces of amusement and confusion greet him. Geoff laughs and says, "Why the hell do we owe you fifty- oh god." his face blanches.

"That's right gentlemen, Mavin just became canon!"

== END ==

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr [here](http://clokkerfoot.tumblr.com/).


End file.
